Aron looked down at the soup that had just been set before him. It was a clear soup with chopped potatoes, lotus root and what looked quite a lot like pork. He looked up at his server.
The monkey sat stoned faced on the table across from him. It had a pink face and light brown fur and reached up past Aron's knees, though he guessed its head would probably be level with his waist if it stood on its hindlimbs. It gestured to the bowl. Please, go ahead, it seemed to want to say.
Aron looked to Dr Chong sitting in the corner, hands tied to a metal pole that had punched through the wall just minutes earlier by the excavator machine. They were in a wooden shack, though the word shack was perhaps too crude to accurately describe the structure. The place was well built though not refined, wide but not tall, a structure that Aron suspected had been built by this monkey, or, he thought of the ravens, a group of such monkeys.
